


Photogenic

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: (the list goes on), Breaking Up & Making Up, Dragons, Dramatic Asshole Dragons, Dramatic Dragons, Gen, Inspired by Photography, M/M, Shapeshifting, The Break-Up's not in this, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 13:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10571811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: Mick's photographer friend cashes in on a favor. As a result, he's stuck in the mountains taking pretty pictures.If only this damn dragon would get outta the shot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I was scrolling through my tumblr and I saw [this picture](https://jq-piccadilly.tumblr.com/post/159346453918) and I tagged it. In my tags I pointed out that swans are assholes.
> 
> Suddenly I got an image of Ice Dragon Len gliding across the lake and an annoyed Mick holding a camera. Because swans are assholes and so is Leonard Snart. Might've been the swan avian Len fic I wrote once upon a time that made my brain make the connection, but?? Oh well??

Mick aims for the mountains. It's buttfuck o'clock in the morning, so they're nice and misty. Amaya likes misty mountains, right?

Well, she's getting 'em. Next time maybe she'll reconsider taking him along to take  _pictures_ of all things. Maybe. With any luck.

Mick's finger hovers over the button. The result: a pretty background...with a white blur in the middle.

"Are you kidding me?" he growls.

Before him, the white dragon lands in the lake. They blink innocently at Mick, gliding across the water like a swan. They're about the same size as one, with graceful white feathers and a black mask over their iridescent eyes, though this dragon's mask is lined with bold gray, almost like goggles. But still, if not for the dragon-shaped body, Mick would've confused 'em with the bird.

Which figures. Swans are assholes.

Mick tries again.

A quiet splash. Another white blur.

This time, the dragon swims on their back, tail flicking lazily as if they hadn't just ruined another fucking picture.

Mick's boots squelch in the mud as he storms to the water's edge. "Listen, you fucker. I gotta take a certain amount 'a pictures of this place. So you either back off, or we're gonna have a problem."

Which is mostly an empty threat. No matter the size, Mick's pretty sure he can't take on a dragon. But he will  _damn well try._

The dragon continues on their merry way. They even spit water in the air like a fountain, as if they want to specifically annoy Mick. Given the past ten minutes, Mick's not surprised if that's their goal. It's the  _why_ that's got him confused.

Mick raises the camera. Halfway up, he jabs a finger at the dragon and snaps, "Don't move."

The dragon trills sweetly. Maybe they're done?

Mick raises the camera.

No. No they are not.

A snort. A splash. A blur.

Mick lets the camera bump on his chest. "You little―" he is  _this close_ to just swimming out to the damn thing and wringing their pretty neck.

Amaya texts him instead.

>>Changed my mind. Think you can take some shots in the forest? Maybe at the base of a mountain, looking up?

Mick snorts. >>Thank fuck

>>??

>>Nothing

Mick waves dismissively at the dragon. "You want this spot? Have it. I ain't got time for this."

He turns on his heel and walks towards the treeline. The air is cool after last night's rain. A couple birds and bugs are around, but not even they disturb the quiet. Reminds Mick why he's a city guy.

Okay. Base of a mountain, check. Treeline, check. Just gotta tilt the camera juuuust right―

"Oh  _come on_!"

The dragon, dripping wet, lounges on a thick tree branch like he's Rose Dawson. Their tail sways underneath, tail feathers bunched by the water.

Mick grinds his teeth. "You're really startin' to piss me off."

Normally, he wouldn't mind. Dragons ain't that bad, and Mick likes animals. When he'd first seen the dragon, he'd even taken a few pictures of 'em. But the novelty's worn off, and Mick's not one for patience.

The dragon puts their head on their paws. If Mick didn't know any better, he'd say they were smirking at him. Bastard.

Mick puts up a finger. "If you mess up one more, I don't care what endangered species list you're on. I'm gonna rip your wings off."

The dragon flicks their tail. They don't seem impressed.

Mick stares at them, keeping the camera at his stomach. The dragon stares back.

_Click._

"Ha!" Mick barks, "I got a―what?!"

Instead of a clean photo of the forest, a large, blurry stick falls before the lens. Mick hadn't even seen the dragon move, let alone pick that up.

There's a deep rumbling noise. Mick gets the strangest sense he's being laughed at.

"Fuck you too," he grumbles, stomping past, "I just wanna sleep in, but  _no_ , I gotta get followed by an asshole in the woods and take pictures. I'm becoming Bella Swan, that's what it is.  _Fuck_."

Amaya texts him. >>Any good shots?

Mick sighs. She's his only friend, and she's gonna be so disappointed. Amaya had told Mick specifically to take pictures of the landscape and leave the wildlife to her. It was simpler, she'd said.

"Can't even do one thing," he says, "without fucking it up. I'm s'pposed t'take pictures of fucking trees, and I get a dragon followin' me."

He moves to take a step―and jumps back.

"When the―get outta my way!"

The dragon tilts their head at him.

"No," they say.

Mick's jaw drops.

The dragon rolls their eyes. Or they could just be blinking? Looks kinda like both. "Why are you taking pictures?"

"'Cause my friend wants me to. I owed 'er. She cashed in."

The dragon's snout wrinkles. "And you're supposed to take pictures of―what? The trees?" Mick nods, and they huff water vapor. "But you changed your mind earlier. Why are you going back on it?"

"Changed my mind? I didn't change my mind."

"You were taking pictures of a dragon instead of these boring trees."

It hits Mick in the face. "Are you..." a slow, incredulous smile comes to his face. "Are you  _jealous_?"

The dragon snorts more vapor, but the way their eyes skim up the nearest tree is shifty enough. "Hardly. I'm just posing a rational question. Why waste your time on photos everyone's taken before when you can get a dragon on film? In fact, I'd wager your  _friend_ is trying to find one right now."

"Yeah, you're jealous." Mick ignores the snarl. "So, what? You want me to spend all day just takin' pictures of you? Focus all my attention on those pretty little feathers?"

The dragon puffs out their chest. "I'm just being rational."

"Uh-huh." Mick'd heard that dragons were vain. Didn't know how true that was. "And you're gonna ruin every shot I take that doesn't have you in it."

This, at least, the dragon unequivocally answers with "Yes."

"And why me?"

"I'll get to that in a second."

Mick blinks. "What?"

"Follow me. This lighting's terrible."

"Uh. It's the same everywhere, ain't it?"

The dragon gives him a Look.

 

Mick's gotta hand it to this dragon: they know how to get good photos.

After some practical demonstrations, Mick picks up on the whole lighting trick. Between the two of them, they've got a whole mess of ideas and potential places to work with.

Eventually, the sun peeks through the clouds. Mick insists on getting more flight shots, 'cause the dragon's white wings reflect the sunlight so nicely. The dragon preens as they take off.

Unfortunately, Mick only gets a couple before Amaya's calling his name.

"There you are!" she says, running over, "I've been looking everywhere for you! Why didn't you answer any of my texts?"

Mick pulls out his phone. Wow. That's a shit-ton of texting.

"Uh...got somethin' you might like t'see." He hands over the camera and looks around eagerly. "There was a―"

Dragon's gone.

Mick tries not to let it get to him. Although the dragon spoke perfect English, even had a city boy's drawl, they were still wild. Amaya must've spooked 'em off.

"Oh my― _Mick_!"

"What? Did I do it wrong?"

Amaya grins beatifically at him. "You caught a  _Tchaikovsky's Wonder_ on camera and you're asking if you did it wrong? Mick, you did  _fantastic_! I―I can't believe this! You're the best!"

Mick is not used to being told he's the best. He rubs the back of his neck. "Well, uh...thanks."

"This is unbelievable. I didn't know there were any in North America―they're native to Russia, and they're not migratory."

Mick glances over his shoulder. Still no flash of white. "Guess this one's special."

Amaya hugs him.

"Uh...I'm, uh. Hungry."

Amaya pulls back to squeeze his shoulders. "You deserve a five-star breakfast."

"Eggs n' bacon'll do just fine." Mick's too tired for that etiquette shit.

"Eggs and bacon it is!" Amaya says.

"Does this place have good sausage?"

Mick and Amaya whirl around.

Mick shakes his head violently. " _Snart_?"

Because that's Leonard Snart. He hasn't seen him since that bang-up job in NYC two years ago. Guy hates the mountains as much as Mick, but―oh. How the  _fuck_ did he not recognize that voice?!

"Wait," Amaya says, "isn't that your husband?"

"Yeah," Mick says numbly.

"Aren't you separated?"

"Uh-huh."

"So...what's he doing here? How did he even get here?"

"You're not the only one who likes to dragon-watch," Len says. "I happened to come across Mick taking pictures of that Wonder." Mick snorts softly. "Thought I'd help 'im fix the lighting in a few of his shots. He got the hang of it. But I never did get to see  _all_ the photos."

This...vain little bastard.

"So. Where are we going?" Len asks.

Amaya side-eyes Mick. "I'm only game with taking you if Mick is. After all,  _you're_ the one who left  _him_."

"A mistake on my part," Len says, "one that won't be made again."

So this―photo shoot was supposed to be an apology. Lenny is so shit at apologies.

"Let's get goin' then," Mick tells him, "I'm hungry." To Amaya, he mutters, "Go on ahead."

Amaya glances between them. Reluctantly, she nods.

Once she's way ahead of them, Mick starts walking. Len follows.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mick asks. More importantly, how had he not noticed?

Len keeps his eyes ahead. "Not bein' straight with you caused problems. Like I said, I won't make the same mistake." A pause. "I  _am_ sorry, Mick."

Mick's startled into gaping at him. Len resolutely avoids it.

"...not bein' straight's what got us into this in the first place."

Len looks at him then. Mick can see it now: the little slit in his pupils, the slight serration just under his skin.

"I get half your sausage," he says.

Len smirks. "Careful, Mick. You know what happens when someone gets between a dragon and his meat."

Mick grins. "We'll see about that."


End file.
